Iggy and the Trio
by magicormuggle
Summary: England is visited by the three sexiest men in the world, will he survive? ;D SpUk, PrUk and FrUk. Rated T for mild language and violence as well as a few sexual references.


_Part 1: Spain_

Arthur Kirkland was far beyond upset. He wanted to punch, kick, and beat the living crap out of everything. It was so unfair that he kept getting blamed for it all, even if it wasn't so bad.

England was actually crying, not something a great country was supposed to do. What would the others say? He could clearly imagine Alfred laughing and saying, "England, you are such a baby! You should try to be a HERO! Like me!"

Surrounded by tissues in his chair of gloom, Arthur didn't even notice a certain someone break in to raid his fridge. It wasn't until Spain stood in front of him, lettuce in hand, that England jumped up.

"Bloody hell, Spain!"

"Hola Amigo," Antonio said with a smile, "Can I borrow this lechuga for mi taco?"

England scowled. "Antonio, why in God's name are you here?"

Antonio held up the lettuce. "To make tacos?"

Arthur eyed his past rival suspiciously. "Francis sent you, didn't he?"

Spain let out a playful laugh, "No, of course not! Although I did try to visit him on the way here but he was not home..."

Arthur relaxed a little and smiled weakly. "Well then, would you like some tea or something?"

Tony shook his head and replied, "Gracias, but no." He then looked at his younger companion with concern. "Amigo, you can't let all this get you down. Now, come on. Let's go fix tacos together, si?" The Spainyard reached out and helped the Englishman up. "Really Arthur, you need to clean this up."

Arthur looked at the kleenex surrounding his feet. "I will...later." He rubbed his puffy eyes. "Tacos, right?"

Tony's smile grew, streching from ear to ear. "Si!" He pulled Arthur into the kitchen and began to produce ingredients from who knew where.

Arthur, not being the greatest in the kitchen, stood helplessly and watched.

Spain noticed the silence, so he asked, "Have you told Francis how you feel about this?"

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and glared. "So he DID send you."

Antonio shook his head again. "No! I swear he didn't! Look, we all have noticed how you've been locked up since the 'incident'. All of us are worried about you amigo."

Arthur sat down at the table, his head in his hands. "It's just...I feel like I can't stop liking Francis, even when all this bad stuff happens."

Spain nodded and finished by wrapping their tacos in tortilla shells. "You two just need to learn when and where is the right place to express your love. Out in public for all of London to see isn't the right place." Antonio set their plates on the table and went to get Arthur some tea. "Do a better job of keeping it away from your superiors. Maybe not even doing it except on VERY special and limited circumstances would help too. Time help will help heal all of this, you'll see."

England graciously accepted the tea when it was handed to him, his spirits a little higher. "You are right Antonio."

The Spainyard smiled and picked up his food with one skilled hand, not a single item falling from his taco. "Of course I'm right. I've been around Great Britian long enough to know how your governemnt works." He winked suggestively and began to eat.

Arthur picked up his own taco, frustrated when all its contents spilled out the end and had to be put back.

Tony couldn't help but let out a loud laugh. "Haha! You could never eat a taco correctly! Ah, some things dont change."

Blushing, England ate the rest of his meal in silence, both cleaning up and returning to the living room when they were done. The two talked for a while about their old navy's and ships wntil the clock struck two.

"Aiiiii!" Tony shouted, leaping up, "Lo siento England, but there is somewhere I need to be! I hate to leave you like this..."

England waved his hand, indicating it was no big deal. "I'll be fine. I've been alone for hundreds of years. Besides, what you have to do involves Lovi, doesnt it?"

Antonio nodded, rubbing the back of his head. "I promised my pequeno tomato that I'd help clean his house. He's quite the messy one you know."

England just sat back comfortably in his chair, streching his legs. "I already told you I'll be fine. Thanks for cheering me up Tony."

None the less, Antonio leaned down and gave his favorite (practically everyone's favorite) Brit a chaste kiss on the lips. "You be good. I mean it." He playfully ruffled the scraggly, blonde hair and headed for the door. "Oi, Arthur!"

England, still blushing, turned and looked at Antonio.

"Next time I visit, you better be wearing that pirate outfit of yours!" And with a wink only one of the trio could provide, he was gone.

_Part 2: Prussia_

After the mass of tissues had finally been picked up, Great Britain decided to treat himself to a little television. He once again became completely unaware of his surroundings, jumping when a silver-haired menace sat down beside him.

"Arthur! What are you watching?" Prussia had wrapped his arm around the other, making Mr. Kirkland uneasy.

"The Food Network."

For some reason, Gilbert found this absolutely hilarious and started laughing uproarously.

Arthur crossed his arms and shut off the TV. "If you came to make fun of me, get out."

The German stopped laughing. "Oh, don't be like that. I'd heard that you're going through some trouble with the superiors and-"

"Spain told you, didn't he?"

Gilbert tried his best to look innocent and shrugged. "Nien. What makes you think that?"

England brought his face dangerously close to the others. "Tell me."

Gilbert smiled, licking his lips. "Yeah, Spain told me. How was the taco?"

"See for yourself." Arthur pressed their mouths together, getting a nice memory-refresher of Gilbert's taste.

"Hmm...Tony went a little light on the seasoning." The two kissed a few more times, struggling not to get too into it.

"I'm going to guess Francis didn't send you."

Gilbert shook his head, "Nope. I haven't talked to Franny today, have you?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Like hell I've talked to the frog. I don't need any more trouble."

The Prussian frowned. "Dont blame Francis. It's just as much your fault as it is his."

Arthur huffed. "Damnit Gilbert! You don't get it! My relationship with Francis isn't the same as my one with you."

"You mean how ours is based on sex?"

Arthur lightly punched Gilbert's arm. "Yes, that's what I mean."

Gilbert tsked and looked at the ceiling. "Francis is crazy. Being 'in love' with someone like you is suicide."

England glared daggers. "Hey! what does that mean!"

"It means he's missing out on having a lot of fun because he's too afraid of 'hurting you'."

Arthur's face burned crimson and he clenched his fists. "That's not true! We do...weird things."

Gilbert tilted his head to the side, curious. "Hm? Like what?

Arthur bit his lip. God damn him for even taking the conversation in this direction. "Well, you know...recently."

Gilbert nodded thoughtfully. "You had se- I mean 'made love' in public and got busted. Kinky, but if that's the worse you two have done..."

Arthur was getting sick to his stomach. "We cross dress and use food items."

"Explain."

England was going to smack the German. "Well, we used peanut better once."

"As lube? That shouldn't even work..."

"I know! That's what I said!"

Awkward silence filled the room and the two looked at each other blankly. After that, all that could be heard was heavy breathing and the ocasional 'shut up'.

_Part 3: Francis_

Francis had spent the whole day searching for the perfect apology gift for Arthur. He had settled on a dozen roses that cost nearly sixty U.S dollars. That Britishman should be kissing his ass by that night. As he approached Arthur's door, Francis was sure to check that he looked incredibly sexy (not that he could ever look bad anyway) and before ringing the doorbell, tested the doorknob. Finding it unlocked, Francis let himself in. It was always such a joy to surpise Arthur and have him shriek in that high-pitched voice.

However, Francis found, he wasn't going to get that chance. The roses fell from his hands, and his temper rose through the roof.

Now Francis Bonneyfoy had many times proved himself a lover, not a fighter and never really got angry about anything. Finding one of his best friend's practically ready to rape his lover on a living room couch was not an exception. Tears stung the Frenchman's eyes and he felt like ripping his heart out.

"Gilbert!" Francis stormed over and grabed his friend by the shirt, pulling him off of Arthur.

Wide-eyed, Arthur tried to explain the situation. "F-francis, it-"

Francis simply ignored him, socking Gilbert right in the jaw.

The German tasted blood but didn't dare fight back. He knew better than to screw with Francis when he was this angry.

"What the 'ell were you two doing?" Francis was having a hard time speaking English, so he briefly wondered if any of them understood him.

"Franny, its not a big-"

"Get out! Get out Gil!" As pissed as he was at Prussia, Francis didn't want to hurt him more.

Gilbert obeyed, leaving without another word.

"France. Really, we weren't going to. I told him we couldn't go all the way."

"Zat doesn't change ze fact zat you were lip-locking with 'im on ze couch!"

Arthur winced. He really hated when France went to ultra-thick accent mode. "Shut up!"

"Non! 'ow could you?"

"Shut up!" Arthur leapt up and smacked Francis across the face. "It's all your bloddy fault! None of this would've happened in the first place if you knew how to keep your hands to yourself!"

Francis yelped and tackled Arthur to the ground. "Baise vous! You wanted it just as bad as I did!"

The two tore at eachother's hair, punching and kicking were they could and exchanged cuss words filled with venom.

"Go to hell, you ungrateful, French bastard!" England used his nails to leave deep scratches on Francis' face.

"Merde! I 'ope you join me, you lying sack of British shit!" Francis gripped the other's arms hard enough to be sure that bruises would form.

Tears streamed down both of their faces as they slammed one another around the room.

"I hate you!"

"That makes two of us!"

The two ended up on opposite sides of the room in bleeding, panting messes, neither saying another word. They were both biting their lips, trying to hold back sobs.

England whimpered a little bit, holding a sprained wrist as an odd angle when he spotted the roses on the floor. Slowly standing, he went over and picked them up.

Francis stood as well, prepared for whatever Arthur was going to do next.

Holding the delicate flowers close to his chest, new tears formed in Arthur's eyes. These however, were of happiness. "Oh God, you fool..."

He looked at the little card attached that said, _I'm sorry for everything that happened. I love you mon cheri Francis._

Arthur stared at the man across the room who was crying too. "I forgive you, you helpless frog."

With a short pause and a few steps, they were in each other's arms, fighting against growing passion.

"I love you"

Kiss.

"Not as much as I love you."

Another kiss.

"This is so wrong..." Arthur murmured as Francis undid all of his shirt buttons, kissing again.

"Not as wrong as what I'm about to do to you," Francis teased, picking Arthur up.

Arthur winced a little from the pain but was overall too happy to care. "The bedroom this time though, okay? We really can't afford anymore trouble."

Francis smiled and winked. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Angleterre."

* * *

><p>AN: Hello, Magic here! So basically I wrote this story a while ago for Muggle as a parallel to our own lives. . Yeah, it sucks I know. Sorry for switching between human and country names so much, I know it can get really annoying. Also, I'm sorry for any errors in my Spanish or French, I am fluent in neither. -.- Please review and like and I'll give you a cookie! 3 (But I'm Iggy, so you wouldn't want my cookies...)


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